Damn, You're in Trouble
by laintim
Summary: No longer a one-shot #Stellaride backstory showing how Kelly had been caught up in Stella well before she joined Firehouse 51 and how Stella already knew how easy it could be to fall head over heels for the one and only Severide.
1. Chapter 1

"Just in case."

Kelly Severide smiled half-heartedly at the curvaceous woman wearing too much makeup who had boldly slipped her number into the chest pocket of his jacket. She headed back to her table of girlfriends, sashaying her well-endowed backside in the process. Kelly noticed, but he turned back to face the bar just as quickly.

He never had a problem attracting female companionship. In fact, an outside observer might gape at just how effortless it was for him to catch a woman if he wanted to. Kelly Severide could never really be in need of a date. Usually too focused on putting building fires, he never noticed the sometimes smoldering looks he'd get from bystanders, or even unscathed victims once the adrenaline of the emergency faded away. If anything, the heroic glow that would emanate from him after his often daring rescue stunts only amplified his allure.

This is all the more reason he felt unmoored as he covertly glanced at the scene behind him in the reflection of the mirror-back liquor shelves of the bar. He was so clearly caught in the riptide of the breathtaking woman whooping and hollering away on a mechanical bull.

Stella Kidd could never be a party wallflower. In reality, she was front and center, easily stealing the attention of everyone in the bar. With voluminous curls flying wildly around her face, strands of hairs sticking to her forehead, she wore a glisten that would never be deemed sexy on anyone else but her. It was the kind of sheen that's like dewy skin after hours of world-shattering lovemaking.

At the far too intimate thought of his trainee, Severide subtly touched his cold beer to his cheek: one part, to appear like the detached, but amiable superior he needed to be in this crowd, but another part, to cool his brain with a shock to his nerve endings. No matter how tempting and, quite honestly, criminally beautiful the cowgirl on the bull was, there was no need from him to be entertaining such steamy thoughts about her.

He fingered the label on his beer bottle, still feeling live to the touch. It should have been his last drink of the night, but his other hand itched to order another if it would stifle his thoughts. Rolling bits of the torn-off label paper between his fingers, he reconsidered just was made Stella Kidd so damn sexy. Sure, there are few female firefighters who come through the academy; however, there are enough that meeting one doesn't automatically means a guy would need to salivate uncontrollably like a hungry dog. But, he'd never trained one with as much passion and heart as Stella. Save for Dawson, maybe. But he never trained Gabby directly while she was at the academy, and her fierce and exacting brilliance was already evident in his years knowing her as an EMT. With Kidd, there was hardly the level of take no prisoners, laser-like determination that Dawson carried. Kidd put anyone at ease. Made everyone smile. Double over with laughter even. She had a sense of humor like one of the guys.

Severide couldn't help turning in his stool to face Stella still cheerfully riding the mechanical bull. Watching her out of uniform, though, she could never be mistaken for one of the guys. Her body screamed woman everywhere that mattered most to him, which let's be real, was all over. Model stature, but with thick muscular curves. Hips and thighs that could cushion his head for hours. Long legs that would anchor him tightly if he...

"Bartender!"

Beer wasn't going to slice it anymore. One dirty shot of whiskey might burn off his wandering thoughts and hopefully dull his senses so he could focus, blurry-eyed, on anything other than Stella riding that bull: lithe arm waving freely above her head, hair whipping over her shoulders, back arched to keep balance, ass in the air when the bull suddenly dipped.

"Shit," he muttered.

He turned back to the bar to find his shot waiting. He only hesitated a mere second before pounding back the shot. As the liquor burned his throat, he grunted to himself, "Damn, you're in trouble."


	2. Chapter 2

Was she doing it for the attention?

Maybe.

What woman who knows her worth doesn't understand the power it generates?

She knew she looked good in a black tube top that showed off her statuesque shoulders and hugged her lean torso devilishly, but comfortably. She was glad for small boobs because flailing around on a mechanical bull would spell embarrassment for anyone C-cup or higher. Her high-waisted, dark navy jeans were also a blessing in disguise tonight when she decided to go for the mechanical bull riding record at the trainees' favorite bar.

Tonight, that trophy-a Viking helmet with beer tubes for Heidi-like braided pigtails-was hers.

So yeah. She somewhat planned to cause trouble tonight and relish in the attention it brought along. Deep down, she knew the high she was chasing: the adrenaline she felt by feeding off the laughter of everyone having good time. Good, clean fun; it was something she hadn't always abided by in life.

Though once in a while she might take it too far with the drinking, none of this chase compared to her junkie days. Nursing a hangover every so often was nothing compared to the weeks she'd spend wrecked from being high or, worse, in withdrawal cause she couldn't score a fix. Those days made her shudder thinking about how weak she was, how broken.

Becoming a firefighter and continuing to turn her life around so she could help others not end up where she had been meant everything to her. And tonight, she was celebrating another hurdle down: finishing the academy's tactical training course. And in one more week, she'd have her official academy graduation ceremony. She'd be a real, genuine firefighter.

Of course, this was thanks in large part to a delicious lieutenant for a training instructor.

Kelly Severide was the stuff of legends. Gorgeous to look at, but also capable, caring, dedicated, and loyal to a fault. They just didn't make men like him anymore. Stella would know as she thought about how her marriage to Grant seemed to be unraveling further beyond her control each day.

The strength she had found in herself during training was part of a changed Stella that Grant couldn't seem to understand. It bothered him that she didn't need him anymore for emotional strength. He was stuck in a dark cycle of passion and creativity followed quickly by depression and futility. She ached for him to find the spark for himself that she found in becoming a firefighter. They had been through so much together. She didn't want to leave him behind as she moved forward with her life.

But that was where she was headed. Forward. And it felt amazing.

Stella let out a whoop of delight to shake away her concerns about Grant. And the crowd responded in kind, all except one enigmatic man facing the bar. He was probably the only red-blooded male in the place not watching her hawkishly waiting for a nip slip that her last-minute decision to wear double-sided tape ensured wouldn't happen.

Kelly Severide.

God, that sizzle between them. She might have chalked it up to imagination, but intuition told her otherwise. She'd made an impression on him. There was an attraction there, for sure. He might keep it aloof and professional at the academy while barking out drill orders, but those blue-grey eyes of his gave him away. There were days she felt them burn a hole into her as she ran up and down ladders and heaved hoses across the academy floor. Those eyes couldn't lie if they tried.

And just then, for the first time tonight, she locked gazes with those penetrating blue-grey eyes across the room. He'd finally looked up from the drink he'd been working on for hours. His full attention was turned to her as the bull ramped up beneath her like the anticipatory _click-click-click_ of roller coaster gears climbing up that first steep incline.

She felt her stomach knotting while her eyes drank in the sight of his dark grey henley stretching taut against his chest as he leaned against the bar's edge, shoulders back, casual as can be. The glimpse of his gold chain necklace peeking through the opening of his shirt was the only thing to lighten up his look. The eight o'clock shadow of his beard had darkened his face even more than usual, which only highlighted the piercing effect of his eyes on her. Through her.

Stella unconsciously moved to wipe her sweaty brow and brush some of her wild curls out of her face, all while not breaking eye contact with his intense, soul-probing gaze.

Seconds later, she let out a yelp as the bull suddenly dipped and thrust her ass into the air. Not stopping there, it then started to pulsate manically, which made her butt bounce around on the bull while she held on for dear life. She mentally cursed the little pervert of a bull driver. He knew exactly what he was doing as she felt the blood rushing to her face being nearly upside down, helpless to make any of it look at least slightly more graceful.

But, she was determined to hold on.

Just twelve seconds more, and she will have broken the record. The crowd's cheers grew louder as the timer showed how close she was approaching the previous record.

Ten seconds.

She wanted this win. She wanted another amazing memory to cap off this successful day of training. She, Stella Kidd, was taking life by the horns, and the irony of that statement was not lost on her.

Six seconds.

Just a few more moments. And then maybe she'd head over to the bar to find out what exactly was going through the mind of the sexy-ass man hastily downing a shot.

Five seconds.

She knew it was dangerous to poke at him, the rumored ladies man numero uno of the Chicago Fire Department.

Four seconds.

It'd be outrageously scandalous too. He was her instructor, a decorated lieutenant, a legacy kid in the CFD.

Three seconds.

And she was married. Grant would go nuts if he ever witnessed the heat of the looks they were exchanging.

Two seconds.

None of that really mattered to her in that moment, though. His pull was simply too magnetic.

One second.

It couldn't hurt to make mere conversation. All they would do is talk.

Zero.


	3. Chapter 3

Out of the corner of his eye, Severide saw her hike her perfect ass onto the high chair next to him. A whiff of her shampoo mixed with the heat generated from her ride on the bull invaded his nostrils. She smelled delicious. He resisted turning to face her head on. He knew he'd have to prepare himself against the gut punch of seeing her raw beauty up close. He felt her eyeing him, cautiously waiting to see who would strike up the conversation first. When her drink arrived seconds later, Stella turned to him, openly angling her whole body to him as she tossed her long mass of curls over one shoulder and sighed deeply.

"So, Lieutenant. How is this trainee class shaping up to be, really?"

He thought to himself, _Work is a safe topic. Can't really go wrong there. Don't necessarily have to face her either while we chat._

"Yeah, this is a good class," he ultimately responded, "You all are working hard and making real progress."

"I bet you tell every class that," she retorted.

With perfect timing, behind them a few other trainees from the class let out loud peals of laughter as they talked among themselves.

"Why aren't you over there with your buddies?"

"No worries. I'll join them in a second. I just wanted to check in on our fearless teacher, first."

She took a long swig of her drink and over-zealously thunked the nearly empty bottle back on the bar top. Averting her eyes and dipping her head a little shyly, her next words came out a bit like a whisper to herself.

"Actually, that's not exactly true. That's not the real reason I came over here."

His breath caught in his throat a little as his heart jumped to conclusions that his mind desperately tried to swat away. He found himself turned toward her mirroring her body language. He was rapt with attention at what she'd say next.

"To be honest, I just needed a moment to myself. I know it was just a silly contest, but I really wanted to win that damn helmet!"

His gaze softened and he smiled softly out of the corner of his mouth at her admission. He didn't know why she was choosing to confide in him her feelings about her loss, but he liked it.

Just twenty minutes earlier, Severide had observed the crowd boo loudly at some bullshit technicality call by the mechanic that deprived Stella of the bull riding record trophy. Stella barely had had the chance to regain her composure after being thrown off the bull when the call was made, and she was peeved. She argued her piece with the mechanic at first, urged on by the supportive crowd, but eventually let it go a few minutes later, not without some choice swears of course, as the crowd lost interest and a new rider stepped up to the bull. She was right, it was a stupid game, but she had thrown herself into the task with 110% effort and heart, just like he often observed on the training floor. He already knew that's what he admired about her; what impressed him about her. Stella would never half-ass any challenge presented to her, and she was kicking all those asses as a female firefighter because of it.

What surprised him in this moment as his stare at her down-turned head intensified was seeing this unexpectedly vulnerable side of her. It was disarming how open she was being and how she seemed to do so unselfconsciously. Yet, despite how she soft she looked just then, he didn't feel like she was asking him to comfort her. In fact, he could sense she would reject it even if he tried. She was just sharing her feelings in that moment; nothing more, nothing less. And no coy feminine games at work, either. It was then he realized that _this_ is what made her so attractive to him: this honest way of living that was so refreshing. And damn near irresistible, he had to admit, especially when combined with the rest of her.

Severide let out his held breath between tense lips as casually as he could while leaning forward to clink her beer bottle. Readjusting himself quickly to maintain the air of professionalism between them, he gave her his best cheerful smile while taking another swig of his own drink and re-assuring her.

"You'll get 'em next time, I'm sure."

Stella's eyes flickered up at him, the utterly vulnerable look already gone and replaced by a steely resolve, and she gave him a grateful side grin.

"I know I will, Lieutenant."

Shaking off the rest of her deep thoughts, she stood up from the chair while signaling to the bartender for another drink. Life of the party Stella was springing back into action.

Severide, however, stayed seated relishing at being privy to the other Stella just moments before. That thought alone warmed his insides in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. But, he should have known that feeling wouldn't last long in the presence of Stella Kidd. Now, as he watched her adjust her skin tight top over her breasts and her equally tight jeans over her ass so everything fit smoothly when standing, it ignited his blood. She didn't even notice since her eyes were following the bartender's movements. His mind reeled at how she was suddenly even more potent that she was just half an hour ago. And that had already felt like too much for him to keep reigned in behind a professional veneer.

As he smirked helplessly to himself, he knew his Irish exit was calling. This latest drink of top shelf Stella Kidd was just one too many.


End file.
